


Murderers and Tacos

by Kitty111222



Category: Bleach
Genre: Crack?, Drabble, Gen, Who even knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty111222/pseuds/Kitty111222
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orihime awakes inside a dark room. Instead of bonding over the circumstances she shares with the other person, they argue about tacos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murderers and Tacos

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything.

_Prompt: We woke up in a dark room together and instead of bonding we argued about tacos and our would-be murderer thinks we're crazy AU_

Orihime blinked awake slowly. She instantly became aware of her pounding headache and the pitch black room she was sitting in. She could feel rope biting into her wrists and a cold hard floor was beneath her. She listened closely, panic beginning to set in, and was startled to her even breathing very, _very_ close to her. She jolted away with a loud yelp and heard a groan in reply. A moment later, cursing could be heard from a clearly male voice. Silence reigned after that except their breathing. Her breath was shaky and panicked, while his was distinctly calm and soothing to listen to in its even deepness. A long moment passed before Orihime decided to speak up.

"E-excuse me, but are you perhaps… stuck here too?" She asked timidly, doing her best to mask any nervousness in her voice. Another moment of silence passed before his reply came.

"What do you think, Woman? I assure you I would not willingly sit here in the dark with a stranger, wasting my time, when I have better things to be doing." He said, somehow managing it all in monotone.

Orihime felt immensely relieved. "I'm Orihime Inoue! What's your name?" She asked brightly, the situation suddenly not feeling quite as serious.

Again, a long silence reigned. Orihime decided that the man must be shy.

"My name is of no concern to you, Woman. Your meaningless chatter is undesired." He said, still in that monotone. Orihime wondered if he even knew he was speaking that way. Not to be discouraged though, she continued mirthfully, glad to have a companion in the otherwise frightening situation.

"Why do you think we're here? What do you think this person wants with us? Why won't you tell me your name? Are you shy? Where do you go to work? Are you a business man? _Ooo_ , do you have a secretary that you're dating?! That would totally be like the shows I watch! What's your favorite color? What do you like to do? What are your hobbies? Do you like tacos?"

The silence after Orihime's rain of questions had quickly come to be expected, and she sat forward in excitement, eager to hear his answers. She always loved meeting new people and learning about them.

"Woman, stop this ridiculousness. We do not know each other, and I do not wish to become more than what we currently are. And if you ask questions in that way, one does not have time to answer, so I will answer and we'll see if _you_ can understand. I do not know. I do not care. Because I have no reason to. No. None of your concern. None of your concern. Absolutely not. I do not have one. None of your concern. Is that not the same question? And No."

Orihime sat there, confused, until one thing hit her.

"You don't like tacos?!" She exclaimed, standing up in outrage.

She could practically _hear_ his eyebrow raise.

" _That_ was what you understood? And no, I strongly dislike them." He said calmly in _that monotone_.

"How could you not like _tacos_?! They're amazing! Especially when you put tomato sauce and whipped cream on them!"

"Woman, you are being outrageous. That mixture is disturbing by itself. Tacos always break apart and fall on your plate and then you have to eat that. It is also greasy and tastes overall like the axilla of a construction worker. There is nothing enjoyable about them."

"How can you say that?! You must be the spawn of Satan! The Christ compels you! The Christ compels you!"

By now, they were both standing nearly nose to nose, Orihime shouting and _that man_ in monotone. Neither had noticed the man that had walked in on this certain argument. The would-be murder was desperately trying to understand the situation. He had been expecting to walk in on two terrified, perhaps panicked people, but instead had found _this_.

"Woman, I assure you, if anything is the spawn of Satan, it is the tacos. They are disgusting, and yet near everyone loves them. What does that tell you?"

"It tells me that tacos are good and you people who don't like them are crazy! Tacos are a gift from god!"

Orihime could not believe this man. Now she knew that he was just plain rude, a terrible person all together. The sound of someone clearing their throat could be heard, and she whipped around, emboldened by her rage. "What do you want?! Can't you see we're busy?" She hissed.

Silence filled the room and Orihime could _feel_ the tension. Nothing happened, however. A bright light filled the room from her left, so Orihime turned just in time to see a shocked, somewhat disappointed man just disappearing. He didn't close the door as he left, and Orihime gaped and turned to the man who had been her companion. He wasn't very tall and had raven hair and teal eyes. He was pale and thin, but Orihime could see from years of being a nurse that he had good muscle on him. He turned narrowed eyes to her and then slowly approached the door. No one jumped out or attacked; the coast was clear. Orihime heard sirens in the distance and felt relieved.

She wouldn't have to spend a moment longer with this taco hater.

[-]

A while later, Orihime was filling out a sheet at the police station detailing what had happened. Her pencil scribbled quickly across the page. She had promised Rukia that they would meet at her favorite café and talk, like old times. With a bright smile at the thought, Orihime stood with a bounce in her step and walked to the counter just as another person arrived there.

A short, pale man with teal eyes and raven hair.

Their eyes met briefly before Orihime looked away and gave the desk lady, who looked annoyed, her paper. The taco hater did the same seconds afterwards. Then he turned his whole body to face her, and Orihime knew she could not flee. Startlingly enough, he offered his hand.

"Ulquiorra Schiffer. I give you my best wishes." He said in his monotone.

Orihime shook his hand, and then, after a moment, hesitantly offered him a smile in return.

"It was a pleasure, Schiffer-san." She said.

He nodded his and acknowledgement and walked swiftly to the door while Orihime considered their exchange. And then she felt it. She brought the hand she had shaken Ulquiorra's with up to inspect, and sure enough, sitting right in the middle was a small piece of paper. She carefully unfolded it and stared in surprise at what lay inside. A number was written there, and Orihime smiled.

She would definitely be using it later.


End file.
